


Blessing

by iamnotresponsible



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gay, Gods, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, OC, Original Content - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24999748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamnotresponsible/pseuds/iamnotresponsible
Summary: A lonely man, exiled of his own volition from the town he once inhabited, makes a small shack-like shrine to, hopefully, attract some sort of turn of luck. He gets much more than he bargained for when a scrawny, seemingly meek God takes residence in his rickety little structure.---This is based off of sadoeuphemist's response to a writing prompt on Tumblr. I found it beautiful and the concept of a small God helping a lone man was a thrilling concept with a lot of potential.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Small Chances

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Temples Were Built for Gods](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/640861) by sadoeuphemist. 



He wasn’t sure anything would come of his time and devotion.  
He’d seen it done before; Building a monument of worship to allow an otherworldly being to take place in it. Only, most monuments were an effort by the cities and countries as a whole to create a grand structure. They were not single people struggling to do so much as make a proper dwelling let alone a shrine.  
But try he did anyways, setting stone after stone and nailing board after board until a crude little shack sat outside his home. He stared at the finished product, not feeling much pride toward it as much as he felt apprehension and as though he may have just wasted the better part of a week, but finished it was.  
It was time to treat it like a shrine.  
He decorated it with tapestries that had been long forgotten in his home; Ones he had bought with the intention of wooing a mate but never being able to do so successfully. They were all wonderful colors, soft and sleek, but now that he was looking at them he realized their intended recipient would never had liked them. Upon reflection he felt like a fool. That had been the problem all along, hadn’t it? His inability to understand the other’s taste in things… They had very little in common and even less romantically flowing between them.  
In his thoughts he began to hang up the cloths, regret in his heart as he layered them inside the crude walls of his little project. All of this for an entity that might never show… Xander was getting desperate in his loneliness.

In a couple of days the walls of the shrine were covered in bright fabric. He had contemplated hanging up a few trinkets but somehow felt as though that didn’t suit the feeling he was getting from his work. He would not appease anyone throwing whatever he owned into the mix here, so he set the box of glittering items aside and instead opted to fill the inside with handmade books. Some were of his own work, things he had taken to the market to sell, and some were other’s work. He would be lying if he said he acquired them all through legal means; some of the books were far beyond his income and he regretted having taken them at all. His actions were what made him an outcast in this part of the land.

With a small sigh he set the books down, opening the pages and admiring their stitches before closing them again and leaving them.

Tending to his small farm, if you could call it that, was a necessity today. Aside from watering a few things and making himself food he’d been completely neglecting his duties and it showed. Some of the crops began to lean, the soil dry as the summer sun beat down upon the small section of land. He began by watering the crops before coming back around and inspecting them, picking vegetables and plucking weeds. By the time the late afternoon arrived he held a basket full of vegetables, heavy boots crunching against the ground as he began to head inside. He stopped briefly to glance at the shrine, changing his course to enter it through the small doorway. In the dim, and currently dimming, light he couldn’t make out much. He felt around the walls and knelt down, placing a few carrots and potatoes down next to the pile of books.

“Even if you bring me nothing,” he breathed, “At least you’ve brought me a distraction.”

The following morning was the same routine. He awoke, stepped outside to do his work, finished and went to the shrine, and then went back into his home. He repeated this for the week, waking up to the morning sun coming in through his window and going to sleep in darkness absent of candle light.

That is, until, he didn’t.

Xander awoke to a poorly lit room, narrowing his eyes at the window which sat in the wall across the room from his bed. It was covered in purple fabric, pulled so that the light would not enter his room. Fearing the worst, Xander rolled out of bed and struggled to get his boots on as he scurried out the door. Had he been fooled into sleeping longer so that someone could have the run of his land? No one ever dared come from town to his farm, why now? As he swung the door open he found a basket upon his steps that led to his garden, filled to the brim with his crops’ yieldings.  
His plants had been watered, his land tended to, and when he brought the basket inside he realized that his chores had already been completed there, as well. Floors clean, items dusted...  
He was frightened momentarily when a small, brown cat jumped up onto his kitchen table as he set the basket down, staring at it in confusion before watching it jump back down and bolt toward an open window. It escaped with ease and he watched it scuttle into the shrine.  
...He had not intended for it to be used as a shelter for cats, but...he supposed, if this is what must be done.  
He followed the cat outside, stepping up to the shrine and lifting one of the tapestries away from the door only to find a lanky man sitting inside, petting the cat with a fond smile.  
“I hope you don’t mind,” the man looked up at Xander, piercing green eyes full of fondness and compassion. “He found your home and seemed to be very fond of it. If you dislike him inside I can keep him out here.”  
It hit Xander suddenly, eyes widened as he looked the man over.  
There was something ethereal about him; Energy radiating off of him in small, bearable waves.  
“Do not worry,” he started again, releasing the cat. “I am of no importance. I’m not a God of harvest or of good fortune. I won’t bring you love or grant you wishes. I am merely a God of small chances. I hardly deserve what you’ve built here, let alone the building pride I can feel in your chest. I am nothing to be proud of.” His eyes, the green orbs that captivated Xander, looked away in shame.  
“You’re here,” Xander stated. “You’re here and that’s enough for me to be proud of.”

Over the next few days Xander found a surplus of his crops; he didn’t recall having quite so much luck last year, but he would keep his thoughts to himself since he was clearly in the presence of a modest God.  
Tea was made in the morning, the cat would sit on the window sill and purr happily, and his God would stay inside of his shrine.  
He felt bad; The little one room shrine could not be comfortable. Not to stay in all day. So midday he decided to go to another room in his house, making a small bed out of more fabric and wool, before coming out to offer it at his shrine.  
“I don’t deserve a bed,” the man told Xander, almost sounding upset. “Why have you put more work into me? I haven’t done anything worth your praise.”  
“You’ve tended to my crops. The least I can do is pay you like I’d pay anyone for assisting me in my work.” The man thought this over as Xander entered the shrine and set up the bed, placing a candle and matches nearby as well. “Do...Do Gods have names?” Xander asked cautiously. “I’d like to know if you do. I find it hard holding a conversation with someone who I can’t refer to by name.”  
It took the God a moment, but he spoke quietly.  
“Uriah. Before I was blessed I was Uriah.”  
They exchanged a small conversation, Xander introducing himself as well as explaining their situation among the surrounding towns.

Xander awoke to the sound of nails being driven into boards. It worried him at first, but he was aware that his God, Uriah, would not do anything to spite him. He took his time to pull on clean clothes and his boots before exiting his home, finding Uriah making a fence for....well, a cow. Xander did not have any cows, nor did he have any other animals, but it seemed that was going to change.  
When Uriah caught sight of Xander he waved slightly, body slumping with fatigue.  
“You deserve a cow,” was the only explanation Uriah gave to Xander before continuing his work. Xander watched the brunette for a moment, brow quirked, before coming closer to help him build.  
“Rest,” he told Uriah. “I’ll draw you a bath in my home. Gods shouldn’t work themselves to death.” Uriah panted lightly, giving a small nod.  
“You are far more suited for this. How you’ve become so capable is amazing, Xander. If anyone should be a God here it is you.”  
Xander glanced at his smaller guest, cheeks burning perhaps a little at the compliment.  
“You are to be pampered, not made to work. Your body is perfect.”  
Now it was the God’s turn to look away in embarrassment, smoothing out his expensive looking tunic in his discomfort.  
Xander finished the fence and gently grabbed the God’s hand, pulling him toward the house- The real house. He regretted, so much, not building a functional dwelling for this meek little God. He deserved it, he brought Xander so much fortune, even if not monetarily.  
He drew the bath and left his guest to his business, leaving to go and contemplate some designs.

“You should invite friends over,” Uriah said suddenly one day, playing with a dandelion as he laid on the ground and watched Xander work.  
“I don’t need friends.” Xander milked the cow, Uriah having blessed him with the knowledge to have such a large and prosperous animal.  
“I beg to differ. You’re lonely. Maybe someone will pass by, today.” It was an odd sentence, and Xander had no response for it. He continued his work and by noon had forgotten their conversation completely. He was now preparing lunch for them, realizing suddenly that he had a bit more than he had anticipated.  
Uriah did not eat much, and even he couldn’t do away with everything he had prepared. Just as he was about to irritatedly voice his lament there was a knock at the door.  
Uriah didn’t look up, happily shoving his face full of food with no grace.  
And then it hit him.  
Maybe someone will pass by today.  
He remembered that with immense clarity, shooting Uriah a look as he walked to the door to answer it.  
“Hello?” He huffed, swinging the hard wood door open wide to see two people standing there. One was a muscular, darker skinned man with dreadlocks pulled into a tight bun behind his head. He wore garbs that looked to be above Xander’s own income, light and adorned with small amounts of jewels.  
The other was a scrawny, pale man who seemed fragile beyond belief. His body shook as he practically hid behind the other man, hands gripping his shirt tightly.  
“Greetings. I apologize for the intrusion on your land but it appears I took a wrong turn while heading to Alentia.” Alientia was...it was halfway across the continent. How-  
“Ah, what a weird, coincidental and small chance,” Uriah interjected, suddenly next to Xander, voice hardly speaking of the surprise he was trying to convey. “Why don’t you stay the night and get your bearings? We even have made extra food by complete accident!”  
Xander glared down at his little God, watching him reach out a small, soft hand to the two.  
“My name is Uriah, and this here is Xander.”  
The muscular man smiled pleasantly, taking the outstretched hand.  
“I am Aesop, and this is Momiji.” Uriah jolted, eyes wide.  
“Aesop? Momiji? I’m sorry to be invasive, but are you the Riddle God and God of Messages!?”  
Aesop chuckled and nodded, causing Uriah to gasp and sink onto his knees, head down.  
“We are blessed,” He told them excitedly.  
Xander blinked, unable to follow at the speed these two were going, but when he looked at Aesop he felt the same aura he felt from Uriah; Albeit, Aesop seemed to be far more intense.

The pair had dinner and Uriah took them to his dwelling outside, giving them his bed and belongings for the night. He considered nothing of his own whereabouts for the night, instead opting to go into Xander’s home and quietly begin chores.  
“You can’t just invite Gods into my home,” Xander’s voice said with annoyance from nearby. Uriah, in the middle of wiping down a dish, turned around to face his host. He leaned against the sink, offering a small smile.  
“I intended for a single guest, not two Gods!” He smiled even wider. “What luck! I didn’t think I was capable of making such a thing happen.”  
“Don’t make it happen,” Xander snapped. “You can be here. I don’t mind that. I do, however, mind other people. If I wanted to be surrounded by people I’d go back to town.”  
“But they’re Gods,” Uriah reminded, cocking a brow in confusion while setting down his plate. “You’re blessed, Xander.”  
“I don’t want your Gods and I don’t want your people and I don’t want your blessings.” Xander walked forward until he was directly in front of Uriah. “Do you hear me?”  
Uriah opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. His brows furrowed angrily as he put a hand on his hip, glaring.  
“Oh, so I can only bless you how you see fit? Is that it? You just want crops and gifts but, oh, Gods forbid I try and improve your quality of life.” Xander was taken aback, eyes slightly wider as he looked Uriah over.  
“I didn’t ask for your blessings,” He tried to reason, but it was cut short as Uriah’s finger jammed into his chest.  
“You did. You asked for everything I’m giving you when you put your intentions into that shrine. You asked me to stay when you made me a bed. And you asked for guests when your heart felt lonely. I am the God of small chances, Xander Eldritch Howell, and I will continue to exercise my right as a God.”  
Xander couldn’t respond, watching Uriah stomp out of the house and-...Where was he going? Xander couldn’t follow, his God’s small form disappearing into the darkness behind his barn.  
“No!” He tried to call, grabbing a lantern off a hook near the door. “Uriah, it’s too dark, come back-” He hastily pulled his shoes on, lighting the lantern and sprinting out the door after him.


	2. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years of isolation made him bitter, but months of a God's blessings made him happy.

Xander had been searching for hours.  
He went through the barn, around his land, and hesitantly headed into the forest nearby. He had made a point of staying out of the dense trees since a nightmare he’d had about a bat winged creature creeping past his vision in the night, but Uriah might be in there.  
And he might be in trouble.  
Xander didn’t dare call out, as he feared what may be lurking out there, but he shone the lantern around as much as he could without fearing his discovery by something unwanted.  
“Uriah,” He whispered, legs tired and mind weary. “Uriah, please, it’s dangerous out here…” He found a clearing, uncertain of which way it was from his house anymore. He had gotten turned around and lost so many times now that he very well could have been right back where he started.  
He held the lantern out and was immensely displeased to find that no, he was not back where he started. He was standing at the cracked and splintering wooden gate of a cemetery, the grave markers knocked over and thrown about almost as if it had been on purpose. However, dead center sat a large mausoleum. Intricate designs were etched into the stone, a heavy door adorned with iron sat open, and inside… Xander was disturbed to see candlelight. The light flickered at the doorframe, dancing as flames swayed, showing the top of a staircase going down into the ground of the cemetery.  
...Uriah wouldn’t.  
...Would he?  
Xander mustered up the courage to walk into the cemetery, feeling dread wash over his body immediately. When he got to the door he paused, bowing his head briefly.  
“I apologize for intruding on your rest, departed ones. I hope you find my cause acceptable.” And with that he took a determined step in, starting his descent into the ground.

It felt like the stairs went on forever, his careful footsteps echoing in the narrow path he took. The lower he got the more it sounded like there were voices. He wasn’t surprised, really. What with the candles, Uriah missing, and the fact the door was open this was expected. It would have been more concerning if he happened to find nothing.  
“Hello?” He called, the voice he heard ceased. “I’m not trying to intrude, I’m looking for a friend.” He slowly stepped down the last two stairs, finding a hallway with doors. “Have you seen him?” He tried again. “Small, brown hair, wearing a fancy little tunic? I’ll leave as soon as I have him.” There was incoherent whispering, then the shuffle of uneven steps across the dirty floor. Around one of the doorways came an unfortunately familiar figure; Ashy grey skin, bat wings protruding from his back, red glowing eyes… The monster from his nightmare.  
“Your small time God is here, but you may not have him.” The figure grinned, baring sharp teeth as he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.  
“Pardon?” Xander stood taller, eyes narrowed. “I’d like to take him back home, please hand him over.” His anger was overtaking the fear he had been feeling, body exuding confidence and courage.  
“You humans neglect your Gods and think we owe you anything?” The ghoulish man laughed, wiping a mock tear from his eye. “Look at me. Look at this place. I watch over your dead, I eat your nightmares, I control your poor luck. And what do I get? Broken gates, crumbling grave markers, overgrown weeds, and not a single visitor since the death of Trentin Ocilia.”  
“Ocilia..? Like, the cult leader?” Xander slumped. “Your grounds weren’t forgotten, they were kept a secret-”  
“Silence. I didn’t ask for your excuses. Be gone.” He waved a hand, gesturing Xander back up the stairs. “Your pet will do nicely to make up for the injustice I have suffered.”  
“No.” Xander took a hefty step forward, making himself as big as possible. “I will visit your graveyard every day, I will fix your fence, I will right your tombstones, and I will find your followers, but I will not leave Uriah, my God, here.” The man seemed to be perplexed, body slumping.  
“Are..are you disobeying me?” His voice spoke of disbelief and uncertainty. “You can’t do that!”  
“I already did.” Xander continued forward again, walking past the ashy man with ease. His fear was no more; This…secret God was not as terrifying as he had seemed. Xander thought back to his nightmare as he turned into an open doorway, shining his lantern into the room. The way he felt so much fear around this intruder in his mindscape… It had been a plea, not an omen as he had thought.  
“I-I...I want you to stop,” the figure was behind him, but made no move to obscure his attempt to find Uriah.  
“You’re lonely, here. I can’t blame you for wanting him to stay. Uriah has been great company for me, too.”  
“No!” The man’s wings flew out as he stomped his foot, throwing a small fit. “I’m not lonely! I demand worship! I demand offerings! If I wanted to be surrounded by people I would leave!”  
Xander turned to him, about to argue back when he realized… This was exactly what he had been yelling at Uriah for only hours ago. Insisting he wasn’t lonely, demanding things to be seen his own way.  
“You don’t have to admit it,” Xander said flatly, checking another room. There, in the corner on a small, beautifully adorned bed lay Uriah. Curled up into silky sheets and breathing gently; Unharmed. “I will be taking Uriah home, but I won’t be leaving you alone. In three day’s time I will have your worshippers.”  
The man watched helplessly as Xander strode to the bed and picked up Uriah carefully, juggling him and the lantern as he walked back to the doorway and then the stairs.   
As he put a foot up on the first step he could feel the bat’s presence behind him.  
“Were you...serious? You’ll send someone to me?” His voice was hopeful, lonely, sad. It made Xander feel guilt that was not his own.  
“Yes, I will find your...cult.” He used the last word carefully, turning back to face the man fully. “You know where my home is, yes? Point me in the right direction.” He watched him raise a bony, clawed finger to point. “My name is Xander Howell. Don’t be a stranger.”  
He started again up the stairs, hearing the other shuffle uncomfortably.  
“I’m Velius, I am holding you to your word!” The words were said so desperately that Xander could find no threat, smiling slightly as he continued upward and felt Uriah stir slightly in his arms. The whispers started again, and Xander realized they were one sided.

The morning was in action far earlier than he had expected. He had given Uriah his own bed, sleeping instead in a chair near the back door. Unable to sleep for long, however, he set to his chores and finished before the sun had fully risen. With the extra time he found a canvas bag and began to pack it for his promised journey into town. Clothing, jarred food, water… He swung it over his shoulder just as Uriah poked his head into the room, watching Xander as he turned around, leaning back on his desk.  
“You’re awake, good. See to it that our…” He paused. “Our guests have a good morning before they leave. I have an errand to run in town.” Uriah looked away, shuffling awkwardly. “I do appreciate what you do,” Xander told him suddenly. “Even the things I didn’t openly ask for. Aesop and Momiji were hardly a burden. But, please. Never run off again. You had me worried sick.” Uriah seemed to light up, green eyes swirling with emotion.   
“Must they leave today? I fear that Momiji may be much less capable of their adventures than Aesop. They could really use a longer rest.” Xander made a face. “They aren’t a burden,” Uriah quoted cheekily, practically prancing forward and taking Xander’s hands with a grin.  
“Why are you still in my house,” Xander huffed, rolling his eyes.  
“Because if I was anywhere else you’d never get anything done, you care about me!” Uriah beamed as he danced back out the door, running to tend to Aesop and Momiji. “Good luck on your trip!”  
It took a moment for Xander to process his God’s words. You care about me… Indeed he did. He felt a bit of warmth spread in his chest, making stops around the house to tidy things before heading out.

His return to town was less than pleasant, although extremely underwhelming. No one recognized him, thankfully, and not much had changed. He headed toward the slums, holding the bag to his side protectively as he neared a crumbly steeple in the center of an empty courtyard. He could see it tower over the rooftops, like a beacon as he avoided alleyways and beggars. He kept his head down; He only had one reason to be here and didn’t need distractions.  
Suddenly he felt his bag begin to move, jumping slightly and pulling it away from his body just as the flap popped open and a brown cat’s head popped out, mouth open wide as it gave a loud meow.  
“What- What are you doing in there!? You belong at home with Uriah!” The cat ignored him, naturally, and crawled out of the bag and jumped onto the ground, running off. Xander glanced into the bag and was surprised to find a couple of his books inside, adorned with delicate painting. There was a small note as well, written in beautiful calligraphy.  
“Xander, I packed some of your journals so you can sell them at the market! I kept one I really liked, hope you don’t mind. Oh, and Mue wanted to come with, just let him go. Cats are weird and have their own agenda. Uriah”  
He smiled softly, the fact that his God thought of him even in his excitement of being around two other Gods making him feel...Well, happy. It seemed he felt like this more and more; Uriah usually the center of it.  
“Xander?” He was pulled from his thoughts, eyes meeting someone he had hoped to never see again. He tensed, closing the bag and watching as a man walked toward him, skin tan in evidence of his work and hair pulled back. This man was once someone Xander had sought after dearly, having spent a chunk of his income on the man in a futile attempt for his misplaced affections to be returned.  
“Armand,” Xander flatly responded.  
“What are the chances?” Armand asked, crossing his arms and almost smirking.  
“Look, I don’t have time-” He stopped, going over what Armand had said. What...were the chances.  
Damn that Uriah.  
“I don’t have a lot of time right now.” He corrected himself.  
“Are you giving me the cold shoulder? After everything you did you’re trying to ignore me? If anyone here has a reason to be mad its me.” Armand’s amused expression turned sour. Xander didn’t respond immediately, but he nodded and looked off momentarily.  
“I know. You have every right to hate me for what I did to you. You never asked for me to harass you with poorly thought up gifts.”  
“And one more thing- Wait, what?” Armand furrowed his brows. “Did- Did you just-”  
“I’m sorry,” Xander stated bluntly. “That won’t change what happened, but I realize now that my behavior was unacceptable and furthermore I was confused.” Armand was speechless, eyes wide as he watched Xander wave lightly. “You don’t have to accept, but I do have to keep a promise I made so I have to be on my way.” He stepped back and spun around to continue to the cult’s hideaway, Armand’s footsteps close behind.  
“That’s all I ever wanted, you idiot!” Armand caught up, walking beside him. “I just wanted you to apologize. You didn’t have to leave town and stop coming to the market, Xander.”  
“Understood.”  
“So come back.” Xander froze again, looking at Armand.  
“What?”  
“I said come back. Come back to town and stay with Amira and Zuzuke again. There might not be the relationship you wanted, but you were happy here. Even after everything you did to me I always regretted being the reason you left.”  
There was a lot to unpack- And not enough time to do it. Xander would have jumped on this offer years ago when he had first left, probably under the impression that he could still somehow force Armand to want him like he had wanted him for so long. Now it was tempting, but for another reason entirely. Armand and him had been close, running Armand’s guardian’s shop together and spending every waking moment at each other’s sides. He missed that. He missed that closeness and sense of purpose, the books in his bag a reminder of his time here with Armand. But more so than anything else he would never come back; He had other obligations that weren’t based on a long since passed friendship that he himself had wrecked.  
“You were never the reason I left,” Xander stated with purpose. “I left because I needed to fix myself and I thought the best way to do that was to isolate myself. I really do appreciate seeing you, the chance to say sorry and to clear the air… But things aren’t the same anymore. I’m not the same. I’m never coming back.”


	3. Reversal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hectic few days, but finally things are winding down and maybe, just maybe, Gods and Humans can catch their breath.

Xander stood inside of the old church, heart dropping. Was he too late?  
He looked around, paint peeling from the walls, windows shattered, and not a single shred of evidence that any meetings had taken place here in quite a long time.  
“Hello? Is anyone here?” He stepped up onto the stage at the front of the room, waving a cobweb out of his face. “I’m here on business, I...really hope you’re here.” His voice grew quiet as he felt like he had failed that poor, lonely God in the cemetery. He took a seat on the stage, legs dangling off the side as he contemplated what to do.  
It was always possible that they relocated, but Xander hadn’t been here in so long. Where would he even start?  
He sighed and looked up to the door of the church as it suddenly swung open, an overly excited man in a hooded black robe humming and shuffling inside. He stopped when he saw Xander, stared, and then dropped what he was holding and screamed.  
“Whoa- Hey, calm down!” Xander held his hands up, taken by surprise. “I’m just here to look for the cult-!!” He watched as the man calmed down, pulling his hood down.  
“Oh, cool.” He went from a level ten freak out to being completely calm in seconds, picking up his stuff and jumping onto the stage, sitting next to Xander. He dug an apple out of his bag and bit into it, sighing happily.  
“...Do you… know where it is?” Xander tried to prompt him, feeling uneasy with this man.  
“Hm? Oh, here.” The man gestured to the building around them, taking another bite. “I’m the cult.”  
Xander nodded and cleared his throat.  
“You’re...alone,” he clarified, feeling sorry for him.  
“Yup! It’s hard to have a cult when you can’t find your God. I think he's out there, so it’s fine for me, but have you seen this place? I’m pretty sure it’s going to fall on my head. My dad didn’t leave me much to work with.” Despite all of this the man kept smiling, however.  
“I’m so sorry, that must have been hard.” Xander watched him shrug, kicking his legs.  
“Not really. Ocilia’s are notorious for being garbage people, my father was no exception.”  
“Your father was the leader, then. And he… He never told you where your God was?”  
“Sometimes those you serve are not those you know. I was taught blind obedience, so I just come here every day and hope something will happen. But here you are! You’re happening!” He finished the apple quickly, dropping the bag next to him and holding out a sticky hand. “Erembour Ocilia, and who are you, stranger!?”  
Xander took the hand apprehensively, cringing at the feeling of the other’s sticky skin on his own.  
“I’m Xander Howell. I’m not from town, which I’m sure is obvious.” He let go. “But I know where your God is. He needs his people. And if you’re all that’s left, then he needs you, Erembour.” Erembour’s eyes lit up and Xander thought he might explode.  
“You know him!? Ohhh my Gods- Does he stay in a mansion!? A castle!? I bet he is surrounded by gems and gold!” Xander couldn’t respond, Erembour getting to his feet and sprinting into the area behind the stage. He collected a few things and returned, shoving his belongings into his bag and picking it back up. “Let’s go!!”  
As they exited the church Xander was surprised to find Armand standing outside, arms crossed and glare boring into them.  
“I don’t know what you’re up to, but that guy is no good,” Armand told Xander. “He’s a freak. Whatever promise you made isn’t worth keeping if he’s involved.” Xander felt anger swirl inside of him; Sure Erembour was...weird, but this amount of disgust that Armand was displaying was far from necessary.   
“I’m leaving town, don’t worry!” Erembour smiled widely. “It was lovely knowing you, Armand, but I have a greater calling. I hope that someday you, too, find your true purpose in life.”  
“Eugh,” Armand wrinkled his nose. “Do you hear him!? Please tell me he isn’t going home with you.”   
“Even if he is, you have no place in that decision.” Xander grabbed Erembour’s arm, pulling him along.  
“Xander! What is your deal!? What the hell happened to you!? You used to be-..be…”  
“Different,” Xander finished for him, not looking back.  
“You might not want to listen, but then I’m coming with you to make sure that little creep doesn’t try something. I’d like the chance to see you again and can’t do that if he uses your blood for a ritual.”  
“I only do that on full moons.” Erembour was...singing it. He was singing about using blood on full moons. Xander huffed and did his business, stopping in the market and selling his books for a far better price than expected before they all started the trek home. The sun was setting as they left town, leaving the bustling community in favor of silence.... If only it hadn’t been for his two traveling companions. He tuned them out, constant bickering going on long into the night.

The sight of the small house was so much more comforting than Xander could have imagined. It was dawn now, Uriah would be waking up shortly. He had to assume that their guests were still inside the shrine, sleeping as the three men walked through the grounds.  
“Is this it!?” Erembour yelled, and Xander clamped a hand over his mouth.  
“Shush, there are three Gods sleeping within earshot. If you wake them I will not be pleased.” Erembour nodded in hopes Xander would release him, and he did. “This is my home, not your God’s.”  
“You...live all the way out here?” Armand looked upset. “That’s so far away, Xander. We only got here so fast because of those men with horses. Move closer.” Armand reached a hand out, gingerly touching Xander’s arm only to be shoved away.”  
“Your God is in this forest here. There’s a small cemetery he watches over, we have to find it.” Xander was curt and obvious in his act of ignoring Armand. Something was amiss, here, and he didn’t like it. The way Armand was so obviously trying to reconnect, to be friends again… It was almost like their roles were reversed.  
The harsh response was not lost on Armand, but he continued to trail behind Xander as he led Erembour into the forest.  
“He lives in a CEMETERY!?” Erembour squealed- quietly. “Fantastic! My favorite place to be is a cemetery!”  
Armand listened only. Erembour’s excited whispers about his God, Xander explaining what he was like… It was insane to Armand that this man who once swore himself to no God and wreaked havoc on his life was suddenly so wrapped up in these various Gods’ lives. He’d even gone into town for one, something that Armand knew he never wanted to do again, not even to sell his items.  
He was so selfless. It was admirable.

There they stood in front of the mausoleum together, Erembour quite literally bouncing as he held Xander’s lantern and used it too look around.  
“I want to live here forever!” He spun around and looked at the other two. “Maybe if I’m lucky he’ll even cut me!” There was silence after that for a bit, no one making a move inside.  
“I told you he’s a freak,” Armand said suddenly.  
“That wasn’t supposed to come out!” Erembour beamed anyways. “But that’s fine!” Then he sprinted into the stone structure and down the stairs.  
As much as he would like, Xander knew better than to just leave and so he followed after much more slowly, ignoring it as Armand grabbed his sleeve.  
“Xander, wait-”  
“What is it, Armand!? Seriously, you’ve been-”  
There was a scream, both men forgetting their bickering to sprint down the stairs.  
Xander wasn’t sure what he expected, but Erembour clinging onto Velius’ tall, lanky form was hardly in the realm of possibilities.  
“What- What is going on-” Velius sounded like he was almost scared, hands lingering away from the small form that clung to him even as he tried to move away.  
“My God! You really haven’t left us, amazing! I truly have been blessed on this day-”  
Velius clamped a hand over Erembour’s mouth, giving Xander a look.  
“This is it.” Xander gestured at Erembour. “This is- HE is your...cult.” Velius looked from Xander to Erembour, nose wrinkling. “He was the only one left.” Velius accidentally let go of Erembour, wincing as the robed man began screeching again.  
“You’re so much better than my father told me! The others could not remain faithful like I have, but I have been so blessed! My name is Erembour, My God, but you may call me Remy!” Thankfully Erembour had pulled away now, taking a knee in front of the ashy figure.  
Xander feared that the lack of people was upsetting to Velius; He hardly showed enthusiasm. Or, anything else for that matter. He stepped forward, taking Erembour’s chin in his hand and forcing his gaze upward so that he could really see the man that believed in him blindly for all of these years.  
“I thought perhaps there was a failure in our existence,” He started quietly. “Gods die when they are forgotten. But for years, even without visitors, I remained here. I thought, certainly, it was cruel fate just as my sentencing to the darkness of this world. But you…” He waited a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Your belief alone was enough to sustain a God. That’s incredible. I’m honored to have you, Remy.” He watched his worshipper’s face light up, not expecting the lunge forward as Remy tackled him backward, clinging to Velius happily.  
Xander swore he caught a smile, fangs exposed behind black lips as Velius was finally not alone.

The walk back toward Xander’s home was a quiet one, Armand trailing a few feet behind Xander as crickets chirped and a slight breeze passed by, cooling their skin in the dark of the night. Their day had been..long. Xander’s last two were exponentially more tiring, but strangely rewarding.  
They approached his house together again, Xander’s weariness dissipating as he watched Uriah’s form sprint through his house and out the back door, exploding into the back yard.  
“Xander! Finally!” There was almost a smile on Xander’s lips as Uriah came at him, throwing himself into Xander’s arms, their bodies connecting with a dull thud.  
In their reunion Armand was forgotten briefly, but Uriah realized his mistake soon enough.  
“My apologies,” Uriah gasped, turning to Armand and standing straight, a hand lingering on Xander’s arm. “I’m Uriah-”  
“The God of Small Chances,” Armand finished, eyes wide. He seemed taken by surprise, but Xander pulled him from his thoughts as he began to speak.  
“Armand and I were...friends as children,” he explained, avoiding the reality of their rocky relationship. “He came with me to bring Velius’ follower back safely.”  
“Ah, thank you!” Uriah smiled wide, and that seemed to cause a reaction in Armand’s chest. His heart fluttered, but he was again forgotten as Xander and Uriah began to catch up on their respective times away from one another.  
Armand didn’t miss that Uriah still grasped Xander’s arm gently, animatedly talking yet moving with the grace of the God he was.


	4. Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uriah tries to be hospitable and Xander tries to clear the air.

Uriah’s time running a house on his own was a swift kick in the rear back into his memories of being a human. He had not been mortal in...a very long time. He didn’t have to watch over others or keep track of items and tasks. His time here with Xander was easygoing- ...until Xander was away.  
He was ecstatic to see the man emerging from the woods that night, and even more happy to see yet another friend. Xander was growing so much, Uriah couldn't help but feel proud. But, pride was for later. Right now he had to pretend that he hadn't been struggling to make things work and take care of their two guests. Sure, he loved their company, but he found himself feeling quite tired trying to avoid making them feel without worship.

After a brief meeting Uriah pulled them inside, Aesop and Momiji at the table already sipping at tea.  
Aesop looked over and gave a small nod to the guest, but Momiji was still meek. He seemed to struggle with eye contact and averted his gaze from the man and Xander.  
"This is Armand," Uriah told the two, pleased when Armand bowed without being prompted to.  
"Ah, he bowed to us, Momiji," Aesop told him with a small smile. "See? You are not forgotten." It was clear that the redhead's hands shook, so Uriah took attention off of him to seat his newest guest.  
"I'll grab you a cup!" He excitedly told Armand, pulling Xander off as he went to fetch it.  
"You should sleep," Uriah insisted, walking into the canning closet and getting onto his tip toes to retrieve a small crate of the delicate cups from the top shelf. "I've got a handle on things here." He gingerly brought the box down and pulled out a small teacup, engraved with goats and painted with the smallest paint brush.  
"You look tired," Xander retorted gently. "And you don't have a bed, still. I'll wait until you're resting and after we find a place for our new..guest." Uriah looked up in time to see Xander's nose wrinkle at the word and he could feel his chest tighten a little.  
"You were more than friends." It was a soft statement, but not a neutral one. It was clear that there was something behind the statement, but Xander couldn't quite place it. He took a moment, watching Uriah look over the glass with feigned interest.  
"We weren't-" Xander started, but was quickly cut off by his small God.  
"I'm taking too long. I'll wash these cups, don't worry." Uriah scooted around Xander in the small canning closet, his small body sliding against Xander's side before he vanished from the man's sight.  
He forced a smile and bounced back into the dining area, taking the teapot and pouring Armand a cup while he and Aesop chattered.  
"You're heading to Alentia? I hear its beautiful," Armand looked amazed. "I haven't had the pleasure, but my mother used to make trips there on occasion for work."  
"Yes, it is amazing. Momiji has an important message to deliver once we arrive, but I plan on staying for a bit to enjoy the scenery."  
Armand took the cup as Uriah handed it to him, attention shifting fully to the God of small chances as he went about busily, not yet sitting down to rest despite being a God himself.  
"You haven't taken a seat," Armand reprimanded, patting the last open chair. "Come."  
"I have to clean a place for you to stay," Uriah insisted humbly, a small still plastered on his face. "Rest, I'm fine."  
"I...won't be staying," Armand told him with hesitation. "I appreciate your hospitality, but I'm aware that I'm not welcome here." Uriah stopped, looking Armand over for a moment before nodding, smile smaller.  
"I understand. Then allow me to get you some things before you go."

As he stepped out the back door later thag night Armand felt a gentle hand grab him by the arm, stopping him. As he turned back around a bag was set in his arms, none other than Uriah standing there. He held onto the bag he was given, making a face and looking back up at the radiant smile this humble God was giving him.  
“What is this?"  
“Your things. For the road." Uriah began to dig in the bag, showing Armand what was inside. "A blanket for resting, canned food, some water, and I made you a talisman!" He showed the leather charm to Armand, grasping his hands gently and placing it in his palm. "I've infused it with good luck and hopefully a lot of chances for you to benefit from. It's a thank you for helping Xander home."  
This was...sweet. It was an incredibly sweet gesture, and Armand couldn't help it when his face began to heat up.  
"Thank you," he managed, packing the things back up and averting his gaze. "I'll keep it with me, always. Thank you for blessing me." He said no goodbyes as he started his journey back home, glancing back only once at those wide green eyes watching him leave.  
When Uriah could no longer see Armand's small form he gave a hefty sigh, body clumping as he entered the home again, tiredly picking up the teacups and taking them to the basin to be washed.  
Momiji and Aesop had already retreated into the shrine, leaving Uriah alone in the dining area until Xamder entered cautiously.  
"You don't need to explain," Uriah told him, almost snappily. "Gods are not to mingle in the affairs of humans." As he grabbed a bucket to fetch water Xander was suddenly in front of him, looking down at his small form.  
"You were human once. So you have every right to meddle. I can tell it's bothering you, and I don't like it." Uriah resorted to pouting, crossing his arms and looking away with a "hmph."  
"What does a God care if you had a relationship with someone? It has no bearing on my job. You worship me, I bring you chances. That's all."  
"You don't mean that," Xander insisted. Taking Uriah's chin and bringing his gaze to his own. "You've shown me that we are more than God and follower. At the very least, Uriah, we are friends. And having you here has shown me that I was not always a kind man. You gave me so much over the last few days, and I want to share with you what that is." Uriah looked flustered, unable to force a reply out. Xender released him but kept their gazes locked. "When I was young I thought I could persuade Armand into a relationship. We grew up almost as brothers, his family treated me like one of their own. I worked in their stalls through the years, and they were incredibly wealthy in very little time. As I got older I thought that because of everything I did for them that I was owed something. And I thought that something should be Armand. A strong man, great in battle, and destined for wealth and greatness. What else did men want?"  
"An heir," Uriah interrupted suddenly, looking very confused. "Most men just want a woman and an heir, Xander." There was silence, and then they both began to chuckle, breaking the tension.  
"I suppose you're right. That would probably be why they casted me out soon after I began pursuing him." He sighed, taking a seat and the table. Uriah followed. "Anyways, I was..awful to him. And finally when I realized it wasn't working I left town and came out here. I found this abandoned little farm and made it my own. And years later...you. Through your blessing I gave my sincere apology and realized something important. I am so much happier here with you than I ever would have been wealthy and surrounded by those miserable people. Love isn't what I felt. Love is waking up and being content just existing around the other person."  
There was a lot packed into that statement, and Uriah was quick to dodge it. He didn't understand; and so he busied himself with cleaning.  
"Great, let's get ready to sleep!"  
Xander watched the God with a deflated expression, resigning himself to the outcome of the discussion.


End file.
